Ticking Time Bomb [THE SCORCH TRIALS]

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE
❞Throw me to the wolves and I will return leading the pack.❞

"SO HOW was your first day with the new arrivals?" Director Janson questioned with an interrogative tone as Ingrid sat in the plush chair across from his metal desk. Her fingers played with a small rubber band, her thoughts tracing back to Thomas's small outbreak that she had witnessed just an hour ago. She couldn't help but wonder but who that girl was, and why so many tests were being performed on her. Ingrid wasn't going to dare to ask Janson, for some things just had to be secretive between the two.

"Um, it was okay. Just them getting comfortable," Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still focused directly on the beige colored rubber band. Janson let out a small sigh before finally sitting back down in his spinning office chair, his elbows firmly placed on top of the desk.

"Ingrid," Her leader spoke firmly, yet the girl didn't bother to look up, mostly due to the fact that she simply did not want to mention much of the three boys.

        "Yeah, it was fine," She spoke in a light but assertive tone, that easily made the older man want to back off, but he simply questioned his motives. She was a teenager, and he was far older than she was. He had nothing to be afraid of, but then again, he did. Ingrid Clearwater was ill-mannered from the death of her mother, yet she still had others idolizing her for her true character; the aura of fight that she contained. She was a force to be reckoned with ― a ticking time bomb. All she needed was a rooted fire to blaze her with the power and force of the nature of destructiveness.

"Ingrid, we need to know. Have they been improving, thriving, if you may?" Janson pushed all uncourteous thoughts of the girl out of his mind. The brunette girl let out an small sigh of annoyance before dropping the rubber band to the floor, averting her eyes to meet the grim eye's of Director Janson. "I told you, they're fine."

          Janson stood up once more, an airy laugh escaping from between his parted lips. "You and I both know that no one thrives during their first day here."

"Well, maybe they're smart. You thought of that one?" Ingrid rolled her eyes obnoxiously, leaning out of her seat to place her cold elbows on the warm desk. "They have a high level of intelligence, and I'm sure they could rebel even if they wanted to."

        "Rebel? Miss Clearwater, if there's something you're not―"

Ingrid stood up to face Janson head-on, her eyes burning into his piercing one. His gaze denoted the girl's confidence, but she soon gained it once more by squaring her shoulders straight. "Janson, I assure you, they are fine. Like everybody else that ever came here."

        "Something's different with you. It's almost as if-" Janson searched his mind for the right words, "-as if a certain someone has you feeling extra protective."

         "I'm not protecting anyone―"

"Do you remember what you said about the first batch of arrivals? You said, and I quote, that they were a bunch of looneys who didn't even know how to use knives correctly. And now this batch comes around, and you see nothing but potential. Now, I would understand if you meant it. But you don't, Ingrid. There's something going on," Janson paced around the stygian room, a minuscule smirk planted onto his face. "Someone has caught your tongue."